


The Portrait of Yuri

by arieldreemurr



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Autism Spectrum, Body Dysphoria, Body Image, Depression, Gender Dysphoria, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Self-Harm, Trans Female Character, Trans Natsuki, Transphobia, trans yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22234921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arieldreemurr/pseuds/arieldreemurr
Summary: Yuri has kept a secret for too long. She wakes up one morning and realises that she needs to tell her friends.
Relationships: Natsuki/Yuri (Doki Doki Literature Club!), Protagonist/Sayori (Doki Doki Literature Club!)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 71





	The Portrait of Yuri

**Author's Note:**

> I took a break from my somewhat heavy series to write something a little more positive. I'm trans, and I adore Yuri. And people really love Trans Natsuki, so... Trans Yuri.  
> This is quite indulgent of me, and a lot can be traced to my own experiences, but I hope you all like it! It took a lot out of me.
> 
> Content Warning for Self-Harm and Internalised Transphobia

_It hurts. It hurts so badly. If they knew, they would disown me. Ostracize me. Leave me to rot. I can't let that happen._  
_Everyday I wake up and think about it. About who I was. Who I want to be. Have I made it? I've made it, right? Am I lucky? It's been a while. I feel like I'm lucky. Others aren't as smooth as mine went. But I still feel... like I'm wrong. Everything about me is wrong. I shouldn't... be this. Who on earth even am I?_

My morning was like any other. I woke up a couple of hours early after my usual trouble sleeping, this time finding myself sprawled on the opposite end of my bed, sweating profusely. It was no use trying to get back to sleep, so I decided to read to take my mind off of things. I was about halfway through Portrait of Markov - a great book, all things considered. Dankovsky's prose is exquisite, and it makes up for the somewhat uneven plotting in this middle section. Not much was currently happening in the novel, but my eyes remained transfixed on the beautiful writing. I took a note to self to try to incorporate some of these techniques into my own writing. The titular Markov was such a compelling figure, being completely relatable due to, and not despite, his flaws - as many great protagonists exhibit. Soon I was absorbed into Markov's headspace, and his problems were my own, effectively allowing me to push aside mine. I so desperately wanted him to find peace and at least some degree of solace after what he had gone through.

I woke up again lying on top of the open book. Turns out it had had more of an effect than I gave it credit for. I couldn't control my sleep, so I was willing to work with this. My peace couldn't last for long, though, because when I turned my head, daylight was seeping through the curtains, signalling that I had to get a move on.  
I felt myself drifting back to sleep and my eyes actively fighting to just let me rest, but I hauled myself out of bed and threw open the curtains. I may as well add "vampire" to the already extensive list of things that I am because the sun is unbearable, especially in the sweltering heat of the summer. Regardless, I sorted out the clutter on my desk, and downed my pills with a glass of water - always an unpleasant feeling, especially with the sharp chill that always hit my throat, but it had to be done. I'd put the picture frame of me and mother face down, being in the sort of state in which one cannot bear to look at one's former self. I hate them even more than what I saw in the mirror. I pulled up my pyjama top partially in order to check my waist. It was normal, right? I was breathing in quite intensely. I allowed myself to exhale to see what I looked like without my bones exposed. It wasn't good enough. It just wasn't. I'm a mess. Still, it wouldn't be noticeable once I was dressed, right? Sure, I was noticeably "top heavy", but that's good for my position, right?   
I don't know anything anymore. And not knowing is the thing that I loathe the most.  
What am I going to do?  
Whilst I allowed this question to ruminate, I took a shower, making sure that the bathroom mirror was sufficiently covered up. Showers are always a pain and take too much time, but I momentarily allowed the warmth to drench my body. This pleasant sensation aside it must have taken me about fifteen minutes to wash myself, at least according to the parts of the bathroom clock that I could make out past the condensation. I wrapped myself in a towel and returned to my room.   
I sat on my bed for some time, wrapped in this towel. I was dry enough, but I didn't want to take it off. Didn't want to see the mirror in the corner of my eye. Didn't want to look down. At least my wrists were healing - I was working on kicking that habit, at least.   
I threw on some clothes, not really giving much thought as to what. The dark trousers and cream sweater would do nicely. Thank goodness that we didn't have to wear those awful uniforms today. I can't deal with the overly convoluted designs, or that colour scheme. And not to mention the stuff they "accentuate". The skirt is nice sometimes, though. Not all of the time, but at least it makes it harder to see - well - I didn't want to think about it. I was still figuring out what fit my "style", or if I even had one to speak of. I like Monika's, but I don't want to blatantly copy hers. Why does she have to look so good?  
Brushing my hair is always a chore - but I'm somewhat proud of it. It took some time to get it this long, and I wasn't going to cut the damn stuff any time soon. Although I do like how Nat does hers. I have options, I suppose, if a future me changes their mind. Their.   
Why am I so ashamed?  
_Honey, you made it. You're one of the lucky ones_.  
I know... But...

Being in the house alone is simultaneously liberating and carries an air of sadness that I can't quite shake off. Mother has been away for a while, teaching abroad. I admire her, I truly do. But I wish I could see more of her. As for father, well, who knows and who cares? He left us. Left me. He couldn't handle who I was. I impulsively clawed at my arm, hoping to draw blood. No knives today. Thank goodness. If I'd bled, then... it would be regrettable. I rolled up my sleeve and sighed. Why did he leave us? Of course, I know why, he made that clear. But WHY?   
I was thinking incoherently, something I was wont to do when this topic came up. I still blame myself. I did this. I couldn't... stay quiet. I ruined everything. I was unreasonable. I...   
Breathe, Yuri. Just breathe. He did this to you. It's not your fault. He wasn't willing to love you.  
Everytime I hear about the other trans kids kids that lost the support of their families, often their entire families, my heart bleeds a bit more. I want to meet more like me, but I can't deal with the memories that hearing similar stories dredges up. It feels vicarious in retrospect.   
I dabbed my eyes with a tissue, realising that I'd welled up by allowing these painful memories to consume me.   
I knew today would have to be the day I told the girls that I was trans. The other girls. I keep disassociating myself and I hate it. I don't even know why I can't see myself as who I want to be. I've been doing this for years. Moving to the new school a few years back gave me the advantage of no-one asking any questions. I look feminine enough. Or do I? Do I? Oh no.   
I rushed to a mirror. Yes, I look fine. I think. Besides the shadows under my eyes from the lack of sleep, at least. Do I look fine?   
I ran my hand over my jaw. It was feeling bumpy today. Bumpy and square. Oh dear. I couldn't see anything, but I felt as though the poisonous spikes in my face were poised to protrude and ruin my day. I hadn't had to shave in a couple of days, and I was glad of it, because I have to take special care not to draw blood. After all, my face is what they can see. I might leave it for a couple of days more, so that I don't have to risk any cuts. Besides, I can feel the unpleasantness, but I can't see it. I look fine. Right?  
Suddenly, every vile talking point I'd been forced to internalise reared their ugly heads and instantly took effect. Of course I don't look fine - I look ridiculous. Ok, so maybe I do look feminine - but I'm performing femininity too absurdly, and I'm hurting people. It doesn't matter how much I change my appearence, they'll always be able to tell that I'm just a filthy man preten-  
_Fuck. Go away, you piece of shit. I hope you get cut to pieces by the people you hurt, you vacuous-_  
I felt bad resorting to the most banal of language to describe our detractors, even in an internal monologue, but sometimes, strangling the oppressor on my shoulder is cathartic, even if imaginary. Even if they come back later. Which they always do. I've lost track of how many different types of meds I'm on presently, and none of them suppress that voice inside me.   
I tore myself away from the mirror and allowed myself to think of other things. Would Markov ever achieve self-actualization? I couldn't be sure unless I kept reading, which I'd do after school.  
With a deep breath, I set off on my journey.   
_Yuri. My name is Yuri._

Walking to school is always an unnerving experience for me. I feel eyes on me, even when the streets are empty. Someone could be lurking, ready to attack me. What would I do then?   
I couldn't say. So many people would be disgusted if they knew about me, I'm sure.   
Do my friends really know me? Sure, they "know" me, but I've kept them from KNOWING me, and I feel awful. I've kept this secret for so long, and that was so unfair of me...  
_Stop, Yuri. It's not._  
Is it, though? I don't know. The only thing for me is to find out. 

With me lost in thought, a car had swerved around me as I was crossing the road. Panicked, I ran for the pavement. How could I have been so careless? What a fool I was. I was so absorbed in my own faux concern and self-importance that I couldn't even pay attention to the road.  
I sighed, and reminded myself that today was not the day to psychologically self-flagellate, as I continued my journey. 

Another relatively successful journey.   
I reached the school gates, to be greeted by Monika waiting for me, casually leaning on the rails with her usual air of effortless cool.  
My heart pounded. Oh no. She can't see me like this...  
She waved at me. "Hello, Yuri!" she greeted as I walked up to her.  
"Um, hi Monika..." I offered weakly.   
"What's wrong?" she asked as we made our way to class, noticing that I was scratching at my arm on impulse.  
"Uh, nothing... Just the usual," was my standard response by this point.   
Monika sighed, as shook her head slowly.  
"You know I'll listen to anything you have to say, Yuri."  
"I know. It's just somewhat hard to talk abo- oh no!"  
We were funneling our way through the corridor, practically fighting to push past the tide of other students coming down the opposite direction. Sensing my discomfort, Monika pulled me into a side corridor.   
"We'll wait for them to pass, then it'll be less of a trial," she reassured.   
"Um... uh... thank you, Monika."  
She smiled as she did. It was almost irritating to me how seductive her smile was. It was a smile of eternal reassurance, and it was concentrated on me, and it told me that she believed in me as I would like to believe in myself, and... I'm paraphrasing The Great Gatsby. Go figure that I'd be so derivative even in my thoughts.  
"I'm here for you, Yuri."   
I managed a weak smile. "Thanks."  
We stood silently for a while. My, Monika was so pretty. It annoyed me, and that's wrong of me. There was plenty for me to be jealous about - her self confidence, grades, ease of... being - and it felt wrong to focus on just that. Oh well, let envy come with the dysphoria. It's not as if I'm not presently overbooked enough with these feelings.  
"Hey," she began, "they've cleared out now. You wanna head to class?"  
I didn't, to be honest. "Sure..."  
"Look alive, Yuri. Isn't Literature your favourite?"  
"I guess..."  
She took my hand and led me through the corridor.   
"Then let's go and annoy the class with your genius!"  
That elicited a laugh from me.   
"I didn't think you thought so highly of me..."  
Monika stopped outside the classroom door and turned to me.   
"Of course I do, silly! Come on!"  
She swung open the door, and I trailed in behind her. We got some dirty looks for being late, but they barely registed with me. I was preoccupied: Monika thought I was a genius? Huh. That was... new.

The lesson had been nothing particularly special. I had been sat with Monika in the corner at the back of the room - the only available space. Not that I had a problem with that. She covered for me when I was questioned on my late project, too. I'd been falling behind, as of late. All of my worries and anxieties had culminated into days in which I wasn't even able to get out of bed. I just want to read my books and forget about the world. Is that too much to ask? Yes, I know.   
We were handed some papers back that we'd given in. To my surprise, I had scored slightly higher than Monika - but she didn't seem surprised, telling me that her faith was never misplaced. I've always known that Monika is smarter than me, despite her protestations to the contrary. I do like that she seems to like me, though. I like her too.  
When we were out of class, Monika suddenly gave me a warm hug.  
"Uhh..." I panicked, my arms squirming by my side.  
Monika blushed and backed off. "Oh, I'm sorry."  
Despite my haphephobia, it wasn't the worst feeling in the world.   
I did my best to smile. "That's really sweet, Monika. Thank you."  
Monika smiled back. "I have to be off for piano practice."  
"That's fine! Will you be at the, um... club tonight?"  
"Of course! Wouldn't miss it for the world!" she replied as she wandered off down the corridor.  
What was I doing? How could I tell her now? She'll feel so... lied to. Would she have even touched me if she knew what I was? Why do things have to be like this?  
...  
_Nevermind. Breathe, Yuri._  
...   
_Better_.

I found Sayori and Natsuki at a table in the canteen for break, and inquired as to what they were doing.   
"Nothing much. What's it to you?" asked Nat in her typically accusational tone.   
"Ah..."  
"Nat! Stop it!" cried Sayori, "Make Yuri feel welcome."  
"I'm sorry..." I began.  
"No, I'm sorry," cut in Natsuki. "I'm being a bitch for no real reason." She scratched at her ear and looked around for any dissenting opinion. "Yeah, I know. Water: wet. I'm sorry."   
"It's ok," I reassured. I could never stay mad at Natsuki, for some reason. Probably for the obvious.   
Sayori asked about how I was feeling, to which I confessed that I'd been better.  
"Aw, Yuri... What happened?"  
"Just life. I've been feeling so... exquisitely empty."  
Sayori leant a sympathic ear, at least. "I understand. I'm on meds for my depression right now. Things can get better, but some days it just... well, y'know."  
I'd forgotten that Sayori was recovering. It was selfish of me. My issues were miniscule compared to hers. I'm just... the worst.  
"I'm sorry..." I repeated weakly.  
Sayori smiled. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Things can be tough, but we're all here for each-other."   
Natsuki rolled her eyes, and Sayori got up, checking her watch.  
"I've gotta go. I'm meeting with a special someone in about five minutes!"  
Natsuki's eyes rolled so far back that I wondered if her eyeballs would make a full 180 degree journey into her skull, and also if that was anatomically possible. On second thoughts, let's not think about that.  
"Goodbye, Sayori, and good luck with him!" I waved.  
Sayori blushed, and bid us farewell. "See you tonight!" And she was gone.  
This left me with my favourite moody friend. I watched her as she scowled at nothing in particular and couldn't help but giggle.  
Her eyes met mine and regarded me coldly. "What?"  
"You're so cute when you pretend to be apathetic."  
This earned a grin from Natsuki. "Literally anyone else who calls me cute is asking for a serious ass-kicking."  
I grinned in return. "And what makes me exempt?" I responded playfully.  
"Well, it's not like I like you. But... I guess I like you."  
I giggled some more. "It's good to see you, Nat."  
"You too, Yuri." She'd seemed to have softened - which wasn't as much a rarity as the others would give her credit for. I knew her well.  
She asked if I was at the club tonight.  
"I didn't contradict Sayori, if that's what you're asking."  
Nat seemed pleased. "You want to ditch this place and go take a walk?"   
"I'd love to." And we were off.

We sat together underneath the sycamore tree, both if us thinking about our lives; at least that was what I could surmise from Natsuki's vacant expression. I leaned my head on her shoulder, springing her back into reality.  
"The hell are you doing, stupid?" she laughed, half playful, half serious.  
"Just thinking about a lot, that's all."  
Nat took my hand and squeezed it tight. "You need to stop thinking so much."  
She was probably right. Definitely right.  
She continued, "I would say you're not yourself, but judging by the visible stress on your face and the way you're carrying yourself, you are absolutely acting yourself. What's going on?"  
My lips couldn't help but curve into something that I hoped resembled a grin.  
"You know. Life."  
Nat laughed, "Yeah, I know."  
We sat in silence for some more time, her hand firmly grasped over mine. I closed my eyes and let the warm summer air envelop me. This was good. I didn't want it to end.  
I felt her head against my shoulder. She was such a sweet thing.   
The silence was broken with a question. "You've been taking care of yourself lately, right? No more cutting?"  
My eyes slammed open. I couldn't tell her about last week.  
"Yes. I'm clear."   
She slowly rolled up my sleeve and ran her fingers gently over my arm. "You have to take care of yourself, Yuri. Let them heal."   
"I know."   
"Good."  
We spent some more time in silence, before I spoke up.  
"You're my best friend, Nat." I confessed, my voice breaking.   
She smirked in return. "Well, I'm not letting Monika usurp me yet."   
"Mean," I responded, again in a playful tone.   
By this point, we were both laughing like schoolgirls.   
Huh, we are schoolgirls. I think I like that.  
We got up to wander the yard on our way back to class. We walked in silence for a while, content enough with each-other's company. This was what I wanted. This was good.  
As we walked through the corridors, I nervously brought up "Since we're all at the Literature Club tonight, there's something I need to tell you all. I've been keeping a secret."  
Natsuki could only roll her eyes. "Well, I already know you're autistic, if that's what you're dying to tell us."  
I began to sweat. "I'm... not going to ask how you knew that. And no, that's not it."  
"So... it's something else..." Natsuki considered for a moment before her eyes lit up. "You're gay! I knew it!"  
Now I could only roll my eyes. "Look, you'll find out tonight. Stop theorizing."  
Natsuki was evidently disappointed. "Ok, see you later," she muttered as we parted ways. 

I wasn't exactly focused on my work for the rest of the day, I must confess. I wasn't particularly feeling up to anything, with my mind a whirl of frustration and anxiety. It was gnawing at me, like a parasite was residing in my brain, my anxiety as sustenance. I lay my head on a textbook in History class, and got a profoundly filthy look from the professor. We were doing the history of homophobia, I think, which was an appropriately depressing topic. I had the urge to talk about people like me, and how we're treated quite similarly in the media, but I was too tired - and I wasn't going to risk outing myself to anyone in that class, anyway.   
Natsuki was right in her assessments, of course. I think too much about everything. That's good sometimes, but more often than not I'm left questioning everything and it sets my brain on fire. Especially when I'm dealing with own internalised prejudice literally against myself. My brain can often be my worst enemy. But what if it's true? My mind was constantly circling back and forth, wondering about these horrible things; what if they were true? I should know. But I don't.   
_No. Stop bullying yourself, Yuri._  
It's not true. Even if I'm going to be mean to myself, I'm not going to hurt others like me with my judgements. I'm... valid. And so is everyone else. I just need to keep this in mind. Be proud.  
Nat was right about other things, too. She probably knew how I felt about her; it doesn't seem like a particularly well kept secret on my part, because I'm sloppy.   
What to do, then? I don't really know. I'd just have to see what happened.   
As I said, not knowing is one of the most painful feelings in the world; and I knew deep down that there was nothing to calculate here, and that I just had to take a leap of faith.  
...  
_Who am I, really?_

Classes had ended for me, but there were still a couple of hours to pass before our scheduled club meeting was to begin. Apparently the room we used was currently rented out by the LGBT+ society. I was too nervous to go anywhere near them, presently. There were supposed to be quite a few people, whereas I can barely deal with three others at the best of times.  
I had to use the bathroom, which was something that I was hesitant to do outside of my own home. Thank goodness that the singular gender neutral disabled toilet was currently vacant. I couldn't stomach having to go into either of the others. One will obviously elicit funny looks, but what if I was spotted in the other? What if they knew and saw me as a...? Oh no...  
After my business was concluded and I'd spent several minutes sufficiently washing my hands, a tertiary glance in the mirror accentuating my discomfort, I decided that there was only one place where I could go to kill time. 

_Ah, the library. My second home._  
It was relatively empty by this time in the evening, so I took a seat in the corner next to the window. The sky was a brilliant orange, which filled me with a sense of comfort. The world really can be quite beautiful, and despite how illogical it was, I felt intimate with the view, like it was somehow exclusive just to me and me alone. It was that sort of perfect night.  
I put in my headphones and selected some sweet ambiance, bringing out my copy of The Portrait of Markov, ready to get stuck in to Dankovsky's prose. I wondered if Dankovsky was like me. It was the 19th century, so we'll never know, but in her memoirs, Dankovsky's wife had written that they had a feminine side, of which Dankovsky was infinitely happier expressing. Alas, things were different, and depression took the troubled writer, only three books into a promising career.   
The Portrait of Markov was published less than two months before Ilya Dankovsky died.  
A sense of profound sorrow undercut the entire narrative, almost as if the author knew that it would be their final act onto the world.  
I closed the book. I was too tired for this. All of it was too much.  
I turned off my music. At least I had the blessed silence.

That silence, rather predictably, was broken shortly afterwards, by HIS arrival.   
"Heya, Yuri!" exclaimed Warren as he waved and ran over to my table.   
"This seat taken?" he asked, indicating the chair opposite to me.  
"No..." was my weak response, which to him must have been sufficient validation, because he was now seated.  
"I'm glad to see you, Yuri!" beamed Warren enthusiastically.   
Warren wasn't a bad guy. He was inoffensive enough, but for the short time I've known him I've felt like he's not particularly committed to the club, with his spotty attendance and erratic patterns. Still, he makes Sayori happy, and I couldn't fault him for that.  
"How are you doing, Warren?" I asked politely, not expecting the full chronology of his day, which was exactly what he gave me. It turns out that he had been having some issues during the last few months, and after he was finished describing how uncomfortable he was feeling in classes today, I asked him if he could tell me why.  
"That's the funny thing, Yuri. I can't be sure of what it is that's bothering me so much. It just... is."  
I could relate to that, I suppose. I wasn't unsympathetic to his position, but whatever was bothering him is probably way out of my area of expertise.  
"So why did you come to me, of all people?" I asked bluntly, not intending to sound as rude as I probably came off.  
"I don't really know, to be truthful. I just saw you and needed to vent to someone."  
I suppose that was also relatable.   
"Are you coming to the Literature Club tonight?" I asked.  
"No, unfortunately. I have to be somewhere soon."  
Of course he did.  
We sat there in silence for a moment, neither of us particularly sure of what to say to each-other, until Warren once again broke the silence.  
"How is Sayori doing, as of late?"  
"I wanted to ask you that. You're her boyfriend, after all."  
His eyes widened.   
"I do know these things, Warren. The two of you aren't particularly discreet."  
Warren sighed. "You got me. I'm worried about me and Sayori."  
"How so?"  
"It's this issue again. That thing I can't describe, but it's definitely there."  
"So you have an issue that's all-pervading, causing you immense discomfort. And you can't quite pinpoint what that issue is. I'm not exactly one to qualify what's "normal", but it seems normal. We all go through periods of discomfort."  
He considered this for a moment, before whispering "I don't really know who I am..."  
Him and me both, then.  
"Yuri, can I trust you?"  
"No."  
"Yuri, can I trust you?"  
"I... don't respond well to pressure, Warren. But... I suppose you can."  
He took a deep breath and lowered his voice. "Ok... so... I can't help but feel like I... shouldn't be like this."  
"I'm not following."  
He sighed, closed his eyes momentarily, and then proceeded: "I think I don't really... fit into boxes."  
Now I sighed. "We create boxes, Warren. I don't fit into any of them. Take pride in that. It's great to be different."   
However, he continued. "I don't... like my... masculinity very much. It's hard to explain."  
Huh.  
"Yuri, I sometimes feel much happier expressing my femininity. But other times I feel like I'm... well, neither. I've wondered if I'm actually a trans girl, but I don't think so. But I don't feel like a man. No. I'm NOT a man. But I'm not a girl, either. And this... crisis I'm having. It's confusing Sayori because I'm getting more distant, and I'm worried she won't understand."  
Well, this was quite some information to take in. Warren with gender dysphoria. Wow. I guess I really should be paying attention to my peers more.  
"So... you're not a trans girl, but you're not a man either?"  
"That's right. I suppose that's really why I came to you. You've read so many books about human behaviour that I figured you'd be able to help me understand these feelings."  
Well, I'd done a but more than just read a few books, but rather than make this comment and possibly out myself as well as come off as a bitch, I chose my words carefully.   
"Do you think... that maybe you're nonbinary?"  
Warren considered for a moment. "Oh. Is that what it is?"  
"It could be."  
They took some time to ruminate on this, and I wondered how I'd suddenly been sought out as some sort of expert on gender issues. It was an irony that was not lost on me.  
"I... oh. I could be. Maybe I always knew. But I didn't want to admit it to myself. My friends make all sorts of jokes and laugh at the concept. I laugh too, not because it's funny, but because I... thought that I was supposed to. Like, there was no-way I could be that thing? So I played along, unable to confront myself."  
"Well, it looks like you are now," I said softly. I'm surprised I had that in me. Even more surprised at how uncharacteristically comforting I was being, finding myself reaching across the table to put my hands over his. "And it's ok not to know. It really is ok."  
They sighed. "Thank you so much, Yuri. You really do know your stuff."  
Nor was that irony lost on me.  
Warren checked their watch, and slowly stood up. "Well, it's almost time for me to go. I think you've got your meeting soon, anyway. Sorry that I can't be there tonight. Again, thank you so much. Goodbye."  
I was left awestruck by what I had just experienced. Someone was confiding in me, because they trusted me. I couldn't shake this feeling; it was... euphoric. I was happy for Warren, I really was, and I felt genuinely good about myself.   
Suddenly I realised. This was the boost in confidence that I needed. This was the event that I needed to spur me into doing what had to be done. I don't believe in destiny, or a grand narrative, or being in some kind of planned computer simulation or videogame or anything like that; but this was the exact sort of thing that seemed like it had happened in exactly the right place at exactly the right time. It was bizzare, but it was GOOD. I didn't believe in that stuff, because I believed in myself.  
I set off to the Literature Club. 

I'd reached the classroom that we often used for the Literature Club slightly earlier than usual, so when I opened the door I was met with the last of the previous occupants packing up after their meeting. Natsuki was here, minding her own business next to the closet, so I figured that she had arrived early too. I went over to greet her.  
"Yuri," she said with mild irritation, "You're early."  
"You too."  
"Yeah... Me too."  
I was quiet for some time, before I figured that I should make myself useful, and so decided to help the other students pack.   
As I did this, I could see Natsuki watching me intently out of the corner of my eye; but whenever I looked over, she pretended to bury her head in her manga.  
With the last of the group's equipment packed (I figured that they were doing an art project from the brushes, pens and paper), I bid farewell to them. I knew some of them from class, but I hadn't really spoken to them outside of lessons. If I join at some point, then I've got a lot of catching up to do.  
I decided to head back to Natsuki, feigning interest in her manga.   
"This one is new, and a bit different to what I'm used to from you," I observed as I beheld what I must admit was beautiful artwork.  
"It's actually an old one. I can't wait for the writer to get off his hiatus."  
The protagonist and his weapon caught my attention. "Nat, you know that I own knives, and as something of an expert myself, I must say that that thing is too big to be called a sword."  
She grinned at this, as if I'd accidentally said something funny.  
"It's... not for me, admittedly. But you might like it."  
I scoffed at this.   
"No, really!" She continued, and then proceeded to spend the next ten minutes describing a story of abuse, love, war, betrayal, cosmic horrors, and philosophy.  
Wow. That wasn't exactly just "sword go swingy". Maybe manga can be literature.   
Natsuki's recount was cut short by Monika swinging open the door and entering with her usual theatrics, arms raised and all.   
"Hellllllooooooo everyone!" she greeted cheerfully. I truly do envy how upbeat Monika is constantly. I rarely if ever see her in lower spirits.   
She was followed by Sayori, who by her expression seemed to be in a similar mood, smiling when she saw me and Natsuki; but with the latter not acknowledging the others as-per, Monika tapped twice on the centre table, a club-recognised motion to form there. Natsuki groaned, and took a seat next to me at said table after I'd tapped her shoulder enough to get her to rip her eyes from the evil Hawk-Man proselytizing his dream. Manga is strange.

Across from us were, of course, Sayori and Monika, with Monika immediately turning to the upcoming Summer Literature Festival that she was insisting we all contributed to.  
"Yuri," she began, "You're our resident nerd, (I meant that affectionately, Natsuki don't make that face) so you're going to be providing our author to showcase. Any thoughts for this year?"  
I considered for a moment. And then I knew.  
"Yes. I'd like it if we could showcase the works of Ilya Dankovsky this year."  
Sayori looked confused, Natsuki was still making faces, and Monika raised her eyebrows, her smile persisting, but... was she nervous?  
"That's... niche of you, Yuri."  
"I'm sorry..."  
"Oh no! It's fine! It's just-"   
"- that no-one knows who that is!" interrupted Natsuki, as was usual for our meetings.  
However, it was Sayori who spoke in my defence. "Well, I don't know, either, but they clearly mean a lot to Yuri, and she knows the most, anyway, so we should do this! She's, like, a super-genius!"  
Natsuki was staring at me amused. Oh no, was I blushing? That implicit question was answered by Natsuki howling with laughter. I smiled too. I love my friends so much. These are the moments that I wish could be frozen in time, like a good photograph, totally immutable in the moment.  
I had to do it now.  
But how?

Throughout the evening's activities, I found myself debating how I was going to go about telling them my secret. Should I drop it casually? Or should I do a grand reveal? The latter wasn't exactly my style, so I just had to pick the right moment. As we discussed our recent reads, my eyes were tentatively focused on the clock, because I knew that it was about to hit our "personal sharing" time that Monika insisted in being so punctual about. As the seconds depleated, I found myself becoming more hot and bothered, beads of sweat rolling down my face, leading to Sayori noticing and turning on the electric fan sitting on the table beside us. I should have probably done that sooner.   
Time was up. Monika signalled for our next session with her irritating double-tap, and we were momentarily silent. Only the metallic hum of the fan was audiable. And then breathing. My breath. Faster. I was hyperventilating.  
Monika seemed concerned. "Yuri? Are you ok?"  
I excused myself and took the time for some air outside of the classroom. What was I doing? I couldn't tell them. They can't know. They'll hate me forever.  
The door opened to allow Natuki access to the corridor and stood across from me, arms folded.   
"So, what's the deal this time, Yuri?" she asked sharply.   
"I... can't do it, Nat. I really can't tell them."  
"Tell them what?!" demanded Natsuki. "Nothing can be braver than when you opened up about your cutting. Anything else is just... well... we'll understand."  
I couldn't be sure. I had to be safe.   
As if reading my mind, she shook me and asked "Hey! What are you afraid of?"  
I could only whisper "You guys..." warm tears beginning to obscure my vision.  
"Yuri! Stop this! We love you, ok? I love you. There's literally nothing that you can say that we'll hate you for. You're the smartest, kindest, most compassionate, beautiful thing in the whole world, and you couldn't hurt anyone even if you tried."  
Now I was crying. Natsuki could only groan and dab my eyes with tissues she had brought, evidently prepared for this.   
She put her arms around me. "Shhh... it's ok, Yuri. It's ok." I held her tight as well. I didn't want to let go. I couldn't. But she did, backing off, and giving me a bittersweet smile.  
"It's ok, Yuri."  
I wiped the rest of my tears with my sleeve, and took a deep breath.   
_Yuri. My name is Yuri._  
And walked back in.  
"Monika, Sayori..." and as she walked in beside me, "... Nat. I... need to tell you something."  
I had their undivided attention. I couldn't blow it now. I straightened my posture, took a deep breath, and prepared to deliver the truth. My heart pounded, unseated against my ribs like a rabid animal in captivity. Nevertheless, I persisted.  
"You guys know that I focus a lot on... identity. The psychological. The... metaphysical. What makes us who we are? What would you say makes us human? Well, I don't really know. But since I was a child I always found myself questioning my very... essence. It was a strange feeling. You know what I mean?"  
The room was silent. Turns out incoherent purple prose of stuff that I didn't even know I meant and was only using to waste time wasn't how I was going to say this. Natsuki shared this sentiment.  
"Fucking hell, Yuri. Stop pretending you're deep and just cut to the damn chase!"  
Another deep breath. I took the leap. 

"Ok! Guys! I'm transgender! As in I wasn't always like this. Wasn't it obvious?"  
Silence. Oh no.  
Sayori appeared confused, and to Monika... it didn't seem to register. Oh dear. She was thinking about how to rip me to shreds. I was fucked.  
Then Natsuki, once again, broke the silence with a prolonged and profoundly uncomfortable laughter.  
"Good one, Yuri!" she wheezed, unable to contain herself. "That has to be the best one I've heard today!"  
I stared into the curious pink of her eyes until her smile changed to concern.  
"Oh my god, you're serious? Aren't you?" Her eyes widened as if I'd just given her the shock of her life, and she began to back off.  
Oh. I might have.   
I turned back to the others. Sayori was scratching her head, but Monika was... smiling, her next words giving me what might have been the shock of _my_ life.  
"Ok. That's cool."  
"Wait... really?"  
"Yeah!" she smiled. "It's always interesting to learn new things about your friends, but it's not like it changes anything. You're still Yuri, and Yuri is all that matters to me. That's it, really. It's cool. I think it's cool."   
I was so awestruck I didn't know how to respond. "Well, that's... nice, Monika... uh... thanks for... understanding."   
"That's fine! Thanks for sharing!" Wow.  
Sayori was more inquisitive. "So... you used to be a...?"  
"I don't think of it that way. You know when you have an egg, and you have to crack it? Or a caterpillar, that then undergoes a metamorphosis? They're always there. I just had to break the egg. Or the cocoon. Whichever analogy you prefer."  
"Ohhh... I think I get it." She evidently didn't get it. Still, that was ok. We had time.  
Sayori continued. "I've been learning a bit about this recently, actually. It's quite funny in a way. Warren has been talking about it. He says that I shouldn't be too surprised when people around me end up being trans, because it's 'super chill', as he says." Well, looks like Warren had been preparing Sayori for their own coming out. I found that sweet. I'd say something, but it's between the two of them, and I wouldn't dream of outing one of my siblings.  
"So... you're ok with this?"  
"Of course! Like Monika said, you're still Yuri. We like Yuri. You're a lovely girl. We'll never stop loving you."   
My heart wasn't pounding anymore - it was melting.  
"I..." Oh no, tears again. "... don't know what to say. Thank you. Truly."  
Rather than saying anything, Monika motioned behind me to Natsuki, who was now seated, furrowing her brow in her usual unintentionally adorable fashion.   
I took a seat opposite to her.  
"Hey, Nat."  
She slowly looked up, and scowled. "Yuri."  
"I'm sorry I kept it from you for this long."  
Her eyes were full of tears. "WHY did you? I always said you can talk to me about anything..."  
"I know. I know. You're justified in being angry."  
She rubbed her eyes, but the tears were still flowing.   
"I'm not angry. I'm just... oh god, Yuri. I'm so sorry you felt so unsafe for so long. I had no idea what you were going through..."  
I couldn't form my words.   
"Yuri... you're an amazing woman, and I'm gonna be here for you until the end of time itself."   
Wordless, I stood up and moved around the table towards Natsuki, who was now sobbing on the floor after leaving her chair. I kneeled too and gently put my arms around her, her's finding my waist.   
"Yuri..."  
"Shh..."  
Soon there were two extra pairs of arms around us. Monika and Sayori had joined in, and I'd never felt warmer, or safer, or more confident than in that moment, my issues with personal space somehow alleviated just in this one perfect moment. I did it. I was out. They had accepted me, if this group hug was anything to go by. Maybe things were going to be alright. Nat had stopped crying, and rested her head on my shoulder, whispering "I'm proud of you..."  
"You're... You're my best friends in the world. I love you all, really.  
"We love you too." Monika.  
"No matter what." Sayori.  
Natsuki could only sniff and hold me tighter.

The business was concluded for the evening. Monika and Sayori had packed up their things, and left together, giving me their best wishes, and Natsuki another hug. If I wasn't hypersensitive I'd be jealous. But now it was just us, and our tears had finally dried.  
Natsuki managed a coy smile. "You're not going to expose me as sensitive to anyone else, right?"  
I gave one back. "Why would I have to say anything? Your cuteness speaks volumes."  
She gave me a push and laughed. "Don't push it! You may be the smartest person I know, but you're also the biggest idiot!"  
"Thanks. Also screw you," I teased.   
We'd packed up our books and began our journey down the corridor to set off for home. Natsuki wanted to come over to mine tonight, probably because she needed to be away from her father. It upset me that she was still struggling, but I was happy that she wanted to spend time with me.   
When we had left the building, we faced the brilliant night sky, although stars seemed to be a rarity.  
Hello, darkness.   
"Stop staring into nothingness, Yuri. Let's go home." Trust Natsuki to break the magic, but it was ok, and didn't overwrite what a special night this was. 

As we made our journey through the blessedly quiet streets, Natsuki asked if she could ask some questions, to which I was in too good a mood not to respond in the affirmative.   
"Thanks. So... anyway, how long have you...?"  
I sighed. "A while. I had the benefit of knowing a bit earlier than most do. I must have been about twelve or thirteen. During childhood, things didn't seem to sit right, but by that point... well, it had become unbearable. I was very lucky to 'know', and my heart bleeds for people who are forced to stay quiet. My mother supported me every step of the way. My father, well..."  
"Yeah. Dads suck," inputted Natsuki.   
"Ours do. But those men aren't a monolith. We've met Monika's dad, and Sayori's. They're good people."  
"I guess..." she sighed. "So, enough of that. You know what I'm going to ask now."  
I drew a blank. "Uh... no?"  
She sighed again, clearly exasperated. "You know... How are you so..." she looked me up and down. Ah.  
Oh joy. For some reason, I found myself sweating again. At night.  
"Uh... eh... Nat that's... rude."  
She threw up her arms. "Alright, I'm sorry."   
"Uh... no, it's ok. I guess I got, uh..."  
"Lucky?" she offered.  
"Well... I mean... uh... my figure, if you will, it... um... scares me. I don't know what it's like for other people, but every look in the mirror produces a different reflection somehow. Like... oh no I've... expanded... or not. Other times I see a... man. Sometimes what I see is... strange. But it's never good."  
Nat, once again, rolled her eyes, repeating once again that "You need to stop thinking so much."  
I wasn't naive to some of my image problems. The mind can conjure up incoherent things when you look at yourself. Regardless, why do I feel like everything I imagine is true? It's partly this imaginary voice in my ear that encourages me to... do things.  
Natsuki seemed to sense my thought process, telling me that my insecurities weren't real.  
"I don't think I'll ever know," was my response.  
"I know," was hers.  
We carried on our journey in relative silence, before Natsuki began to giggle to herself, leading me to ask why.  
She hesitated, and then went forward anyway. "So how did you get your posture?"  
I considered. "Well, I suppose in my insecurity, I always kind of hunched over a lot of the time, worried how others would see me if I was upright. You know I worry that I look... wrong."  
Natsuki groaned, "No, stupid - I was asking about your 'posture' in quotations!"  
It took a moment, but then her meaning was clear. "Oh, rude!"  
"That's me. I don't give a fuuuuuuck!"  
"Yes, evidently," I responded. Her rudeness could be offputting for many, but against all odds, I found it charming. She really could be quite funny sometimes.  
"Anime magic. Also HRT and what from a certain point of view is 'luck'. But I can be your waifu if you want."  
She smirked, as she so often did. "So you have been listening to my jargon?"  
"Of course! Waifu means 'protagonist's best female friend', right?"  
"Suuuure..."  
"The point is that trans girls come in all shapes and sizes. Like the rest of you."  
"Yeah... Like the rest of us..." said Natsuki somewhat cryptically.  
The rest of our journey was us laughing together about various things, before we ended up on the driveway of my house.

It wasn't long before we ended up in my bedroom, with me wanting to show her some of my books. I hoped to get her started on Dankovsky's other works. They all dealt with identity in interesting ways.  
"Do you mind if I use your bathroom?" she asked, uncharacteristically politely.   
"Sure, go ahead."  
Alone in my room again. Like I'd started the day. I filed away The Portrait of Markov back onto the bookshelf, and changed into my pyjamas. When the deed was done, my attention was again drawn to the overturned picture frame on my desk. I picked it up and took a good look, feeling tears on the way again, although it had me smiling. The child in the photograph seemed happy, too, with their mother. It was a perfect moment frozen in time, as any nice picture should embody. I whispered to the child that things were going to be alright. They'd fix that awful hair, for a start, although there were signs of the purple already. They were going to go on such a bizarre adventure, and it was going to be wonderful.  
_You made it, Yuri. It's ok._  
Natsuki came back in, and scowled at my arms.  
"You only have short sleeved pyjamas?"  
Oh. Yeah.   
"The others are in the wash."  
"Ok..."  
We sat together on my bed, and Natsuki couldn't take her eyes off of my arms.  
"I'm worried about you, still. Those cuts look recent."  
"I'm sorry..."  
"You need to stop doing that. You've not done anything to us. You need to forgive _yourself_."  
I looked down at my own arms. They were healing, but the myriad scars were not going to go away anytime soon. I need to stop. Somehow, I will. I don't know how, but I will.  
Natsuki once again rested her head on my shoulder.   
"Yuri, do you know why I was upset?"  
"Yes, didn't we go over it?"  
"No. I've been keeping something from you."  
"What's that."  
Natsuki got up and wandered over to the window, taking a deep breath.  
"I'm trans too. Before you say anything, yes, I know I was upset. I was upset because I needed to tell someone. And then to find out my best friend is... like me. It's overwhelming."  
This was... new.   
"Aren't you going to say anything?" she demanded, clearly losing her composure.  
I didn't say anything - I got up too, and slowly walked towards her.  
Nat looked me directly in the eye, sighing. "You know, you have the deepest and saddest eyes I've ever seen. They're also beautiful."  
I really didn't know what to say. Every comeback, every question, every sarcastic remark that we would trade was just... gone. My brain had ran out of things to verbally output, so my mouth could only half open. She extended her arm and began to... caress my face? It was a feeling that was alien to me. It felt good.  
"Today I found out that I wasn't alone..." she continued, "... and so did you."  
I put out my own scarred, imperfect arm, and began to softly stroke her hair.   
"I love you..." I muttered.   
"I know."  
And our heads leaned in closer, sealing a kiss. And it lasted a while. Longer so than the average kiss. At least that's what I was aware of. Truth be told, it was my first time. 

Our night was perfect. We shared everything, discussing how we figured ourselves out, our struggles, our triumphs, and what we were going to do in future. We also shared a drink. Alcohol is not particularly something I frequent, but it was good to share it with somebody else, especially a special someone, since I suppose that now we're officially a "thing". I couldn't be happier, and judging from her expression, the same was true for Natsuki.   
We had to seal it, and I knew just what to do.  
It wasn't just my first kiss, but I was also unsullied in another way. I'm not particularly proud of what we got up to next, but it was strangely pleasurable, if I put aside how scandalous it was.   
I am, of course, referring to properly reading manga together. And wow, I'm not sure if it was the influence of alcohol, but this felt a lot like... Literature.   
When that outrageous activity was completed, Natsuki disappeared briefly before returning with my copy of The Portrait of Markov.   
"Hey!" I laughed. "Give it back!"  
I chased her outside like a child, the two of us elated the entire time, before we tired. As such, Natsuki lay in the grass, looking up. I joined her. At least the grass was dry as we lay beside each-other.  
Natsuki opened the book at the last page, which was irritating because I didn't want to be spoiled. But it wasn't like I could stop her, as she read the final passage.  
"And so, I learned that despite everything, the most profoundly strong thing a human being can do, against all the odds, is to stay true to one's self. The end. Ilya Dankovsky."   
I... needed to say something, but I couldn't even begin.   
"Huh. Neat," was all that I could muster.  
We stayed for some time longer in the grass, holding hands tightly. Neither of us were planning on letting go any time soon.  
The stars had finally come out, but I'd already found mine. Still, it was a display I wasn't going to forget; and the genuine beauty aside, it was the context that mattered.  
The night sky was changing overhead. 

**Author's Note:**

> A Few Notes on Names:
> 
> \- Warren is a placeholder name that I sometimes use for The Protagonist, and with me giving that as a second name to Sayori in my other series, I figured that it was appropriate.
> 
> \- Dankovsky is a region in Russia, and my use of the name is in direct reference to one of the protagonists from the Videogame Pathologic. There's no real meaning except for me wanting to pay homage to the character. Ilya is a Russian first name that I have seen used by men and women effectively, so it seems appropriate with the nonbinary themes present.


End file.
